They said that I should love like a fool,
And I foolishly love like a fool,
Not minding the moon,
Because, fool was already in full,
Very far from becoming a tool.
I paid my heart in full,
I render myself in full, and I actually became fool to be Wise.

Do not look at your face and brag that you have it,
Look at your inner phase and pretend I don't have it;
Yellowish green, reddish blue, is a shuffled life that position one in a termites colony.
The inclination of our self righteousness does not owns the world by our words, yes, please let us sit down and talk to ourselves for this.

The breath deceived. The breath wore a garments of peace and of pride. The breath explode many messages that put human in danger, in affliction. Breath is an engine of pride and hypocrite.

Breath breeze a feeling of been above,
Breath figure out the world of another world above the world of its own.

Breath, on nutshell is life. The breath of a man is life and to live is heart: God, why did you create the bad and good heart? See now the bad heart mingle with the good heart, and the good of the good heart mingle with the good and bad of the bad heart mingle with the bad.

A  heart kills and stops the breath of another breath,
When the breath seize to breeze, the pride and hunger is lost, left only the history and lesson to learn.

Breath deceived. When the breath seize to breeze, it leads to the smell of corps, mourning and the yarning of the insects all echoes in chorus to tell the world in silence.
Where will pride mount us to?
It's Breath that breeze the pride. We live to assume and we assume to live.

Messiah is the great counselor.
Words echoes in breath, and the world manifest in breath and breeze contrary to the God's ways....

I'm fully recovered into a limelight Idol,
I chase wind and the winter sloping hill of the universe.
I wear shoes, shoes don't wear me. In my silence, I silence the noising world around me.

I'm cooler than Ice, average short, I'm not made to see many but few around are not equal to the proportion of the sea above the mountains. I save myself to be saved in matter of judgement. Nothing more, nothing less.

Now that you're late,
Seeing you with your drifting tongue sitting barely on your silent body, eyes no longer a rolling model,
The Armon have stiffened the ears,
In the night of this afternoon, we have seen a white-dark lane of empty world travelling on the realms of the sea-side; we embrace the hours, though with hatred.


Now that you're late,
Moments of days open the hours of memory,
Duration of time reads the Colon of agony,
The wind briefly summons the sounds in harmony.......
We are in the middle of what had been and what's to be;
What's to be, though the Ocean of unknown truth never spell out the pen of life where others miscellaneous are in shape to nag.


Now That You Are Late,

On the 20th applause, much more is left for synagogue.
The nilecoleon mumbled in erosionic pattern, thus, you're late:
Far off from this trip and stepped on this unsuccessful hours,
May we praise the gods for the meaning;
But, when the twilight of the darkness invaded, the gods does not cherish the minutes,
As birds fly pass the limits,
We all loan out our soul to cry sing in unit.......

Our thoughts congeal our seeds of reasons to think when rings of noon are blushing of needy......!

And Though You're Late!
On the journey that you have embarked on, never you drop by nor look back, shake the dust off your feet and match on......
Here, we shall not cease crushing on each others amid the devil's resistance to live.

You might, as your notion of little knowledge and wisdom gives you play the game,
But I, for one play the truth.
Given out wasn't a crime,
Given in wasn't a crime too as all pends on the condition of puppetry label as a Fool cheating the wise.

There is love in sharing, sharing it with a free mind without the involvement of brain circuit, but it's hard to bale out the lies
I have seen it in the sponge in your your eyes,
Sense it through the shrine in your heart,
Your stingy flesh ignored me a trillion miles away
While your delicious tales is sweet and softer than the honey bee to safety; and the bitter is your look, Is as though as usual!

I can't believe the snudges of my eyes while standing on this fimbriated extremity watching her noble itchy impression effect surreptitiously on my possession,

I beseech you, don't change the motion,
Here I am, in a snidging fitted being to propose the motion
To my final moderator, Is as though as usual!

Meditating in this shrine of patience, amid the precipitation that's befalling on,
My stream of consciousness is heavily exist to know of the scamming mode of saying'Hi'to love!

Isn't it world enough and time to tell that this reading of the last minutes splits my soul and mind....?
Crawling on its feets to rise,
Gnashing on its teeth to raise,
The un-step foot became stepped, harbouring around the Sahara desert of open Heaven and he'll.

The breeze beckons the trees to stand still,
The wind hummed slowly silently in unison;
And here the chemistry, and flesh, in God's wisdom unfold that we live to leave....!

The twinkling of the Stars,  the cloud and the crying of a nightingale are both meaningful in the silent day!
The grace that took us together seems falling, and the strength is no more;
The Love that chained us together seems lost and the hug is no more. We all travelling an unlawful trip and time consuming often time in often hours.


Where is the road that leads my way?
Where is the bridge that leads across the Niles? For my day today have embittered with interlace wet of nature's spit. Breathing in a maniac struggle of soul, invisibly transfigure without pressure the strength left her alone descended beneath the lower layer of the universe taken dominion of realm shadows of darken emblem and thus, the realm conceived the ghost-child with no words to utter.

Who else knew?


Buried with anger that was in her and the hidden things which uttered not, here she became a guest in the other corner of the universe during the sudden Shaft of the moonlight when the breeze speaks the air of the morning dew.

While the dust moves, behold she cried out for help on which way to be led ere her serading steps gently hurl her soul in the shading shrine of mourning.

The heart set in a blue-shape,
The duration lost its Harmony and pitch, the hectic street drifting back home to where it belong.

Of all what she had laboured for couldn't go along, as it is in contrast with the pitch and harmony. The infant baby crying of uncaring. Alas it's Mother, its Mother sudden exit sentence the acolyte to slumber.
"Good night! I mean, good bye or bad bye my baby. It wasn't my fault I left you this way. Perhaps, I have wrong the world. However, time to tell is same as one time to know. Between us I hope there's a Carven of silence begging to be part by the sadden sound of sorry falling from my lips, while a glass wall devouring rage and hurt hurled from my throat as you lying still with a  frown on your face...!

Again and again, my soul splits with angers when I heard that Orlayinker's time is not possible!
Again and again, my soul worship the loneliness of the breeze!
Birds flying skips the tea trees
Breeze moves swiftly on the sea-side leaving the dust,
Here alone sitting on the frigid zone, the cloud full with dewy eyed not longer strabismic by the string drum of the drums, dance of the dances and song of songs

Mighty men mountain the top and leave the world to darkness and to me.
How can we cope with the corrupted whistle? "If it's possible, pause the game and let's all watch the V. A. R. of our lives. You're the originator of the ethnic time, the coordinator of the religion game, forbidden the gay in all time may......."
I embrace bitterness when time flings me to the sour forest of the earth.

Of one little mistake but the big,
Now my heart sustained an injury that cannot be rescue in dime but only with time;
See how the world now have boldness to stand against me...

The mouth of flies are echoing my name,
The broken walls are gradually standing to hold company against my name,
A mistake that's an offshoot of every living creatures,
Well,call me a victim but not a fool,
Perhaps, I got drown off into the side of the deep hive due the infantry knowledge of the world.......

Indeed, in the entire scenario, there no constituents travel. Even in the three clan of time-the neen and the noon comes the morning first of early guest.

Human hatches on human,
The soil must yields in our trip to existence, hence we move into the growth towards the portal.

I'm the world most admirer that waded through mother's bleed, with much showers of pain, the infant icy breeze bawling to commemorate the children of the universe and the nature astounded me with with too much greed.
On this trip, we will succumb,
A trip nine-ten eons synonymous to death, breed of pain.....

The riddles can't stop the hecter!
Fire flame in every enchantment,
Is my own exceptional? Here I am in the military check point. My corticosteroids, my curriculum vitae have been approved YES Bro you're good in the game.

But, one more thing, an I'd that has a dot of bleed;

Oh Heaven I beseech to bend and listen to this

I pardon the pain;
Because, I'm the first reason to smile and the details of my being, distraction is optional;

I'm stepping successful on this earthly path, ignoring the all side signal;
I didn't invite any comer to be part of my glad and sad shore, hence liability survive on heavenly grace;

I am the Prince in the pitch , price to pay in peace
Part in a ***,
Piling pin particularly posted in position not of peasant farmer;

I'm the centre of my excitement, the book in my brain, pages were open for me to read in my daily life;
I'm the circle in my noont-tag, always crushing on a Moonflower....
I'm the sun in the utmost angles of the earth, gently rising to glitter the part of the whole.....

Awakening of the New day unveil too many lies of the truth and the truth of the lies
Atop the pride that nature cease to hurl away. No dependence of the same scenario..

The routine way of struggling,
The murmuring way of surviving,
The gnashing of teeth within a teeth,
The echoing of the springs drop on my ears,
The yarning of the sun, the bleeding of the marmoset to cure the wound of the humans,
The sobing of the innocence ones that wakes the dry bones, the palpitations of the evils eye....I'm living life to the Truth, Christ is the living Truth.

Time dissolves and there is acquittance with tomorrow. The gurgling drums echo the stars, the forest bow's and between the trees, the dark Star appeared to seal the sun;

Stars are twinkling in the skies and the Moon cry its tears out......
The fruits of the earth are living in the darkest night;
Neither do they have moms nor home;

The tea trees in the north-central, putting forth buds with tears and sweats, Christ is the living Truth.

''The sudden spirit lingers on the roads, supporting the tortured remnants of the flesh, that spirit which ask no favour of the world..... The great dragon.''
The qualling of the calf cannot longer be fathom, our homeland without mercy, ''we are calling on you for help...oh dear Messiah''.

I am a fly, attracted by nacreous glow,
I promise I will never be proud,
But always stand to be loud;
When I see the crowd,
I have my face wearing smiles,
But deep inside me I mingle with cry;


I know,  I'm, but veteran of all vice, but don't want be a vibe.
Oh God open my eyes,
Not to set my feet on a deep mire;
Too many threats of weaken signs,
Still I'm a humble ghost of living life.

An igniting panorama of Prague symmetrical is always inline,
Hence, I **** a sense of comiting crime.

I always have mine along the side,
Ignore by people who think they're wise,
I'm not unwise, only need a crown of life; I try to move with rhyme, sworn by my own time, and the demands me to pay a dime,
When they truly know I'm drenched with grime and some much slime,
Here I'm all time climb;

The scale and suddenness of today's onslaught boggles the mind,
And perhaps, desensitize the time,
Nevertheless, while news coverage is voluminous with a lot of people damning their life, to see if they will really be drive,
Notwithstanding, they're making a slime.
I develope the strength of living life,
Through many circumstances which engulf my mind...

There in the windy cloud,
Is nothing but the Windy grace of liming light:
Eyes can see, ear can hear, but the strength and hope Is the Mind.

Many attempts trying to shorten my life, I turn to tell them that is not what God have assign.
My footprint is always design
To explore but never to relax.
My wings are made to be in the throne of air,
So I could be floating like Angels on high, without receiving bribe.

Centuries ago people lies
That is gonna be fine,
But look at me smiling alive,
Causing pain to an unbelievable eyes,
Only to see their mouth open wide,
I'm sorry, I need a purification of Godly life.

This is how I chase most my enemy with rhyming lines.

When the voice of the side talk was singing in bass, beckoning many words of weakening strike,
I stood up with faith to clear their doubt...
My been on the lowest surface doesn't mean I can't fly
When you both know I have wings given by the Most High.....l have the Eagle Mind To Fly High.

A song sang in equilibrium to heavenly make?
Can anyone tell me what it meant?
Sitting and winning in the outermost part of the breeze,
Weeping and waving the glittering of the Stars...

The sun maintain its dignity and the moon is smiling, the trees are dancing with the breeze humming in recognition of multiple sclerosis of the sensory organs.
To who does it sang to....?

I could visionise the tune in the extreme devitrification and immiscibility of my living soul as imagination prompt me to realization.  
Behold it comes with too many colours like rainbow in the sky, well painted and admonished, Song, seem less of hearing than of seeing, walking (working) in procession and harmony.

Yet, unto atumbra we weep through the exhibition of unknown shadows that we cast.
In the other side of the side of me conflicting the soul and mind....